"There's nothing like having a good quart of scotch with you when you're falling into the sun," said Lejeune. "Won't you join me, gentlemen?" "Listen to him," sputtered Geitz. "He's enjoying this. He likes being cooked in a cubby-holed space ship; he likes to sit here day after day while the floor beneath him is burning his shoes." Lejeune, the wiry French biologist, lowered the half-empty bottle from his lips and scowled at the ship's doctor. "But not for long, my dear Geitz, not for long. Our